Show them who you are. What you're worth!
Bat!
Beat! Beat!
In sync with the music that flowed in his ears and the pulse of heat through his veins, Johnny Cage struck the punch bag. Young, illustrious in the head and ready to step into the light. He batted at it, his eyes so focused as though the bag itself were human. He saw the shoulders, the stomach, chest, head, all of it a target for him, but not just that, the target beyond that.
Johnny wanted to be a star. He wanted fame and fortune, women and a name that meant something.
"Johnny's in America," Bowie sang under his breath and pulled Cage from his thoughts.
The world passed them by in shades of black. Johnny watched Bowie's eyes on him. The star, the man that became a legend right before him in the next seat. Then the reality of his situation struck. Bowie had let him in under the false pretense that Johnny was a star too. Was he? Not anymore according to Hollywood.
That moment of worry reflected in Bowie's words.
"Chill out a moment. We'll be there soon."
He let that deep, calm voice wash over him. He was in a limousine with David Bowie. The star of stars.
Who was he question that?
The vehicle came to a stop in a brighter side of Los Angeles. Building lined across the streets with the bustle of life beneath them. Johnny stepped out to an immediate response, but it was to the sight of Bowie. The legend grimaced quietly to himself and raised a hand with a forced smile as the driver quickly whisked them into a brick building stuck between two fashion stores.
Johnny took a quick look before the world faded around them. A metal door, unmarked building, no windows. If you were famous and needed to hide, this certainly would be where he'd go. Once inside, there was a flicker of light and a staircase that lead down. Metal steps and rails guided them both down until a dull roar met his feet and coursed its way up to his ears.
"You playing here?" He turned his head to he star, who moved past him toward a door on the right of them.
"Only the games."
Bowie was quiet since. They were both ushered down a long, bright hall way after the door behind them was locked by a staff member. White tee, all very professional, Johnny thought. He didn't know where they were, but figured it had to be a hidden stadium in the city.
"Good to see you again, Mr. Jones." The next staffer greeted David first.
"Tell Reznor I'll see him tonight. I've got something important to do first."
The man only nodded and opened the door to let them into this new world.
Inside was a crowd of people beneath them. They walked the length of a loft walk way and were quickly ushered into club seats that overlooked a circle of people. Metal barricades encased two bare chested men as they fought for the crowd that screamed around them. Just as Bowie sat in a long, black leather sectional, two woman, nude, of African descent approached, but he waived them off. His ring finger deterred them.
"Wouldn't want to upset the misses." He said in earnest, then parted is knees, relaxed against the couch and watched.
All of this surprised Johnny. An underground fighting ring?
"You really into this?" He had to ask. He couldn't figure Bowie the kind of person that would want to watch men and women bloody themselves for human entertainment.
"Love it!" Bowie clapped as the man in blue dropped from a hard haymaker. "Not what you think though."
"What you mean?"
"This isn't fight club, Johnny. It's the black market."
He watched again as the man in blue was collected by men in white shirts, bouncers it looked like. They wore all black, save for a dragon design on the back of their clothes. He then spotted the money collectors in the crowd, but it wasn't the loser that got collected for it, the winner was quickly seized by the guards. Tased and held down.
He looked back at Bowie's eyes, the man was simply amazed.
The winner, a muscular blonde almost like Johnny in red shorts, was dragged to the barricade to be inspected by a man brought to the forefront of the action.
"That's his owner now." Bowie noted. "He's got five already, rich bastard."
"Who is that?" Johnny couldn't recognize the man, but he could only see the back of his head in the crowd.
"Doesn't matter, really. Who is anyone?" Bowie brushed it off and sat back to examine Johnny. "You think you could win those fights?"
He didn't understand what the man was really asking, only gave him a rushed, "I can beat anyone."
"Rash, confident, but who are you? You're a nobody, Johnny."
Speechless. His temper began to flare, but he wouldn't dare touch the greatest star in the world. Not here, not anywhere. So, who was he indeed so proud he couldn't defend himself against even the elite?
"You got fired from your motion picture because no one likes you. No one even believes you're talented enough to deal with your ego just for one movie."
"Who do you think you are?" Johnny bit back.
"I'm your master now." Bowie grinned, that famous smile and then turned toward the guards at each side of their booth. "You were so desperate to stay relevant that you got in the car with a stranger just because I'm famous."
"You don't know the first thing about me!" He raised from the seat as the guards turned into the booth.
"I know at least one thing about you, Mr. Cage. You can beat those men down there." He pointed and Johnny followed, "but can you beat the man inside here?" Bowie pulled up and pressed a finger tight against Johnny's forehead until the fallen star pushed him back.
The guards rushed him, both held Johnny down with his knees against the metal seating, his head pressed into the leather cushioning and his eyes focused on Bowie, laughing.
"You know," he trailed off, his body comfortable and casual on the couch, "Ziggy Stardust didn't even take a full two of my life, and yet it's all people think of me, assuming they know me for my music." He then grabbed a glass tumblr that had waited for him to the far left. Empty, ready for whatever he desired, he toyed with it like it were a crystal ball and his eyes settled into the emptiness of it as Johnny's world fell down. "Everyone else just thinks of me as Jareth, the Goblin King in that one movie."
Johnny struggled, but there was no release here.
"I made a name for myself in other ways, and not just more movies and more music, but the impact I had on the world." He added, his eyes dark and pulled Johnny's stare into the depths of his, "fame is fleeting, Cage, even for the famous. Everyone knows me, but I'd rather be home with my wife than on tour. I found something better, and I found another way to be. I don't need fame, singles and mainstream success. I'm David Bowie."
"The fuck you want with me then?" He spat as a large hand crushed his skull against the leather seat.
"I want to know who you really are, Johnny Cage." He tossed the tumbler and knelt before his captive. "I want to see you rise or fall like Ziggy Stardust. Want to see what really motivates you. I could on, really, I'm fascinated with people, but I ultimately, I'm giving you ask yourself the same thing."
Johnny couldn't speak, his lips pressed, eyes red and face white as the strength of the guards held still his resistance.
"A lot of men and women have come through this trafficking ring and been sold off or killed, and few able to free themselves. You could do that, I know it. I've seen you fight and I know your resolve is there, but a place like this is not worth your talent." He waved off the guards and watched as Johnny resisted the initial fall and pulled himself together onto the sectional and adjusted to the pain.
"What are you asking?"
"There's a boat in Hong Kong that comes only once every few generations. You're going to be on that boat."
"Hong Kong?"
"Only for a few days. There's a tournament, Johnny, that I think you could win. I want you fighting for me, for yourself at this tournament."
Johnny touched around for blood, for injury and was relieved to feel nothing but pissed. His eyes bore holes into Bowie's.
"Win some fucking tournament for you?"
"You'll get money, fame, whatever you want, really. I just want you to fight."
He watched the thought process in Cage's eyes. He could feel the turmoil in him. He knew what Johnny had gone through and what brought him here beyond getting in that limousine. He knew he couldn't say no.
"Fine, I'll fucking fight."
"Good. You leave tonight. My friends here with the Black Dragon will make sure you reach the boat." A quick nod and the men descended upon him again.
Bowie leaned back, his eyes now on the next fight, two children. His hands met above his knee and pillowed his chin.
"So it begins." His voice deepened as he watched on in fascination.